


Friendship Bracelet

by basedkhr (basedfran)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/F, nonbinary fuuta, none of these are relevant but i put them anyways oasidifabosdf, trans boy fran, trans girl chrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27680623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basedfran/pseuds/basedkhr
Summary: Just a friendly exchange between two pals.A fic forKHR Obscure Ship Week.
Relationships: Chrome Dokuro/M.M., Flan | Fran & Fuuta de la Stella
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Friendship Bracelet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rathalos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathalos/gifts).



> oasdbofabsdf it's been so long since i've written and posted something i feel like it's going to be shaky but if you read it thanks i hope you like it!!!

Though she loathes to admit it even just to herself, MM has noticed that — since a little over a year ago — her feet have fallen into the habit of taking her wherever she thinks Chrome is almost every time she finds a free slot in her schedule.

Almost unconsciously, her body moves without permission in search of the other girl, and MM only ever seems to realize what she’s done when their gazes finally lock.

She comes out of that odd, faux trance one summer morning to see she’s (yet again) walked all the way over to Chrome and Fran’s apartment, Chrome blinking up at her as if expecting something.

“...I was bored.” MM says, guessing Chrome probably asked what she’s doing there. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear to try and sell how casual and nonchalant her words are.

She knows she’s guessed correctly when Chrome lets out a small  _ Oh! _ and nods to herself a bit, confirming some type of internal monologue she was having. She mumbles something even MM’s straining ears can’t catch. A bit of rouge dusts her cheeks. Must be the heat. 

Her voice cracks a bit when she mumbles, “Well, the kids and I were doing some arts and crafts if you’re interested...?”

She’s not in the slightest, but MM walks in anyways as soon as Chrome makes room for her, kicking her shoes off into their usual corner by the door. She notices there’s only one extra pair of shoes besides hers: a pair of sneakers around Fran’s size but not quite his style, the colors too plain and the laces threaded too neatly. “Just Fran and his little boyfriend today?”

“Stop!” Chrome scolds her, throwing a quick glance towards the door leading to the kitchen, but there’s a tiny, amused smile on her face. Though she’s also noticed how attached Fran’s become to the eldest of Sawada’s little brats, she’s too boring — too  _ nice _ — to have some fun and tease him over it. “You’ll embarrass them... But yes, it’s just Fuuta today. I’m not really sure where the other two are, actually?”

“I’m happy as long as they’re not here,” MM huffs, blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face as she follows Chrome through the living room and into the kitchen. “I’m  _ so _ sick of that curly haired brat. He’s almost as bad as Fran.”

Fran — who’s sitting in his favorite spot at the island with Fuuta to his left — perks up at the mention of his name, looking up from something he’s fiddling with in his hands. “I thought you said there couldn’t be anyone as bad as me.” he drawls, his hands reaching up to mime a set of tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m a little hurt now; hearing that made me feel special.”

MM wrinkles her nose — making sure to send Fran the special glare she’s perfected just for him — before taking in the current state of the kitchen’s island.

A large, compartmented tin box (most likely something brought in by Fuuta, as neither Fran nor Chrome are the organized type) sits atop the marble counter, lid ajar revealing an array of beads organized by color, shape, and size. Beside it is a faded blue drawstring bag stuffed with different types of yarn and string, a few stray crochet hooks and knitting needles poking out the top. A turned-on-its-side tartan tote bag sits in between, spilling multicolored fabric across the marble.

Fran and Fuuta both have a few stacks of colored beads sitting in front of them; Fuuta’s stacks carefully organized in their own little system, while Fran’s sit in a messy pile just  _ this _ close to plummeting over the edge of the counter. They each had a tiny metal loom (the object Fran had been fiddling with when she walked in) with an in-progress beaded project strung across it, threaded bead loom needles paused so the two can acknowledge MM’s arrival properly. 

She squints at the beaded objects in front of the kids.  _ Friendship bracelets. _ She wants to gag. 

“I said  _ almost _ , stupid,” MM says, moving past Chrome to rifle through the fridge, checking to see if Fran’s made anything she’d want. She clicks her tongue when she leans into the fridge and sees there’s only raw ingredients and drinks filling it, none of the usual pastries or side dishes to be found. “It’d be a feat to actually surpass you.”

“It’s nice to hear I’m still your special little boy.” Fran says, turning his attention back to working on his project, sheathing his needle with his next row of beads. “The pie under the cloche on the counter’s probably cool by now. Cut it for me, I don’t trust Chrome.”

“I can at least  _ cut _ a pie...” Chrome mumbles, returning to where she’d probably been sitting before she went to answer the door.

Unlike Fuuta and Fran’s part of the island, her work area is littered with sewing materials. A few fat quarters of different types of fabric are spread out running parallel to her seat, a ripped open bag of Poly-Fil sitting on top of them, and a pincushion (shaped like Mukuro for some reason) stuck with a few needles and pins sitting within arm’s reach.

A small pile of finished projects — little things like tiny stuffed animals and simple, hand-sewn accessories — sits to her right. Directly in front of her, in between her and the sheets of fabric, are some scrap pieces of paper covered in little doodles and measurements. MM is a bit impressed to see many of the doodles seem to line up with what Chrome actually made in real life, but she’ll keep to herself.

“So.” MM says, slicing the pie into equal shares but only snagging a piece for herself and Chrome to share. “Arts and crafts, huh?” She plops down onto one of the island’s stools, stabbing into the pie with her fork. She looks at Fran, who’s busy ignoring her in favor of working on his little project. She looks him up and down, stuffing some cherry pie into her mouth. “Never thought you’d like tacky things like this.”

Fran clicks his tongue, pulling his thread through his latest row of beads, finishing off the row. “I  _ love _ tacky things. You especially.” he says, earning himself a smack on the back of his apple that he doesn’t even have the decency to acknowledge, continuing on with his work like nothing’s happening. Fuuta — polite as always — is sitting stock-still like some petrified rabbit, exhibiting a reasonable amount of fear that MM approves of.

“Wanna say that again?” she asks, eyes glinting as she jabs her fork in Fran’s direction threateningly.

“Kinda.”

Before MM can smack Fran again, Chrome grabs hold of her sleeve. Playing dirty, she flashes an apologetic smile up at her, patting MM’s arm tenderly. “So,” she starts, scrambling to find something to distract MM with as she not-so-casually takes the fork from her, partially in an attempt to keep Fran from getting speared. “Do you have any idea what you want to make? You don’t  _ have _ to, of course, but it’d be a fun way to spend time together.”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” MM says, watching Chrome take the tiniest bite out of the slice, wondering if it’s too much to give her a lecture on eating more. “I might sit this one out. I prefer my accessories made by professionals.”

Chrome opens her mouth to reply, but she’s cut off by Fran. “Good thing you know your limits.” he says offhandedly, not even looking up as he finishes weaving in yet another row of beads. “That means we won’t waste any materials.”

Chrome then opens her mouth to smooth things over, but she’s cut off (again) by MM. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demands, snatching the fork back and brandishing it at the nine-year-old, seriously contemplating giving his apple a quick stab. “You think I can’t do some stupid arts and crafts?”

Fran’s words are light and breezy when he says, “Not think. Know.” There’s a little mischievous glint in his eyes as he speaks. And, though he isn’t smiling, the impression of a shit eating grin radiates from him.

“MM,” Chrome manages to murmur while the girl in question was too consumed with putting all her energy into a glare Fran’s way to even yell. “He’s just trying to make you mad.”

MM has a deep understanding that Chrome is right. That this is obviously all just (bad) bait and getting angry would just be her playing into Fran’s hand. Unfortunately for everyone there, Fran is too good at being annoying to ignore.

The stool MM has been sitting on lets out a shrill screech as she pushes off and away from it, standing up to go rummage through the materials on the other side of the island. “How much do you want to bet I can make a better bracelet than you first try?”

“I don’t want to bet at all.” Fran finally offers her his gaze, the mischievous glint in his eyes even brighter as he regards her. There’s an impish edge to his expression now, the tiniest but most infuriating smirk worming its way on his face. She knows that though he’s receiving all her ire, Fran loves having all this attention. “It’d be unfair to you.”

MM sends him another heated glare, grabbing some material from the selection blindly before stomping back over to her seat. She dumps the materials unceremoniously onto the counter, flipping her hair out of her face as she drops back into her seat with a flourish, crossing her legs.

She reaches over and pinches one of his cheeks (because he’s annoying and she  _ hates _ him and absolutely not because she thinks he’s acting a little cute), pulling and shaking his cheek. “You little brat, I’ll fuc-”

“ _ MM! _ ” Chrome cuts in, her need to protect Fran and Fuuta’s (mostly Fuuta’s) precious ears overriding her tendency to let others talk over her. She tugs at MM’s shirt hard, taking hold of her attention. “Let’s just... start crafting, okay? You can just prove him wrong.”

“ _ Can _ she?” Fran manages to ask before Fuuta claps their hand over his mouth, eyes  _ begging  _ him to just shut up for once. Fran licks their hand to get it off — a shrill little shriek escaping Fuuta’s lips — but keeps his mouth shut.

MM sends one last pointed glare at him before picking up her materials — some embroidery floss in various shades of red — preparing to show the little brat up for once. A simple bracelet should be easy enough considering it’s literal child’s play.

* * *

It’s embarrassing and predictable, but MM finds out rather quickly that she’s actually shit at weaving bracelets.

Her first attempt is a complete trainwreck. Having never so much as  _ picked up _ embroidery floss before she ends up with a very impressive knot, every loose thread tangled up in the others in at least two places. Even Chrome and Fuuta’s nimble fingers, both used to undoing knots because they’re constantly fixing Fran’s shoelaces, couldn’t undo it while working together. MM tells them to give up on it when the knot starts looking like it’s getting bigger and shoves it aside, starting what would be a pretty sizable pile of failures.

It’s around her fourteenth time around, after combing through How-To books and YouTube for help, that Fuuta, having watched her struggle from across the island this whole time, finally gets up and tries to help her. It’s embarrassing to receive help from them (especially since she’s unsure if they’re doing it out of kindness or to save their crafting materials), but she swallows her pride for the moment and lets them help her.

They’re about half-way through a simple candy stripe bracelet, MM actually doing  _ well _ under Fuuta’s tutelage, when Fran pricks his thumb with his beading needle. MM catches him freeze for a moment — the gears in his brain visibly whirring behind his eyes — before he starts moaning and groaning.

“Oh. Oh my Goooood,” he drawls as he throws his head back in “pain”, face as expressionless as always. “Oh my God, I’m bleeeeeeeding.”

And though everyone in the kitchen is well aware it’s a ruse, Fuuta scurries over to tend to him. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful-” Fuuta tries to scold him, but they end up genuinely fretting over the little prick (both Fran and the injury) when they catch sight of actual blood. They grab the backpack they’ve left on the floor ( _Just how many bags did the kid bring?_ ) and start digging through it. “ _Oh my_ \- Francis, go run that under the tap _right now_. Your hands are always so dirty, it might get infected if you leave it too long.”

“Heeheehee...” The giggle comes out flat, but everyone can tell how pleased Fran is by his little scheme working.

Fuuta’s expression contorts into a tired, strained smile — reluctantly endeared — as he passes them by on his way to the sink, sparing MM a glance when they finally fish out what looks to be a first aid kit. “Sorry, MM-san, do you think you can keep it up by yourself?”

The real answer is  _ No. _ but MM says, “Wh-Of course I can! I only needed your help starting off.” She picks up the threads of the half finished bracelet, already forgetting which color she’s on and the pattern she’s supposed to weave them in.

“Ah, alright.” Fuuta says, looking up from the “wound” they’re disinfecting for Fran to give her an awkward, half-hearted smile. Things are a little weird between the two of them, what with MM being part of the group that had kidnapped them and all, but Fuuta tries to muddle through pleasantries for Fran.

They say it’s easier with her because she was the nicest, going out and buying convenience store lunches so they weren’t stuck eating candy all day and keeping Ken from snapping at them constantly. MM isn’t sure she wants to be called nice for any of it. Feeding the kid you kidnapped is like the bare minimum you should do. “Tell me if you need more help though.”

Fran locks eyes with her while Fuuta’s preoccupied with picking out the right sized bandage and shakes his head, miming cutting his throat at her. MM’s nose flares irritably as she shakes her fist at him.

“Um,” Chrome leans over a bit before MM and Fran can fall into some weird mime fight, giving a tiny but sweet smile. “I could also help you? If you want.”

She knows Chrome is trying to be nice and helpful, but for some reason, MM feels embarrassed at the thought of receiving help from her. She knows it’s not just her pride (she’s already accepted help from an elementary schooler, after all), but well... She never wants Chrome to see her as anything but capable.

“Nah,” she says, starting her weaving backup with only half an idea of what she’s doing. She keeps her gaze trained down on her work, not wanting to risk a glance the other girl’s way. “I’ve got it. ...Thanks though.”

“O-Oh! Yeah, of course.” Chrome’s cheeks go rosy again. She reclaims the thing she’d been working on, some mess of purple strips of fabric that’ll probably transform into a masterpiece like the others. Her eyes are a bit downcast, and though she has no clue what the problem is, MM politely pretends she doesn’t see, thinking of how she herself would  _ hate _ for someone to point out she’s experiencing emotions.

The rest of the crafting session goes on quietly.

Chrome finishes her last project first and sweeps everything she made in a cake box she fished out from one of the kitchen cabinets. She remains seated at the island, though, eyes flickering between MM and Fran and Fuuta’s general direction. Her gaze causes MM to fuck up a couple times on her bracelet, but MM doesn’t want Chrome to know she’s watching her watch her so she keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t complain.

Fuuta and Fran finish up next, their bracelets annoyingly impressive. They’ve made matching star patterned bracelets, the charms only differing in color. While the one Fran made has jade and peach colored stars on a white background, Fuuta’s features soft brown and navy blue stars on a black background. She watches them exchange them, tying them onto each other’s wrists. She’s only capable of stifling a gag because she knows it’ll fuck up her weaving process.

As the others clean up their work stations and start on making lunch (Fran does the bulk of it while Fuuta and Chrome hover around him, just in case he cuts or burns himself), MM is still sitting at the island, weaving away. She works through lunch, splitting a plate of chicken pesto linguine with Chrome.

After lunch the kids run off to play in Fran’s room. Chrome goes off to her own room for a second, but she comes back with a book and reclaims her seat. They sit in an easy silence, the hum of the fridge the only noise between them as she works. With Chrome’s gaze fixed on her book, the pattern in the braiding is easier to keep in mind. She falls into a rhythm before long, focusing in on her work.

She doesn’t notice how much time has passed until she’s close to finishing up and Fran runs back into the kitchen with Fuuta trailing after him, heading over to some dish towel covered bowl that’s been sitting on the counter since he finished up his lunch and left to go play.

“You’re still at it?” he asks, bringing the bowl over to the island while Fuuta grabs something from one of the cabinets. The corner of his mouth tugs up judgmentally as he removes the towel, revealing a large mound of puffed up dough. “I think we all know who won here.”

“Oh shut up. I wasn’t competing with you,” MM lies, turning her gaze to Fuuta who awkwardly glances down out of habit when their eyes meet. “Hey, can you show me how to finish this? Please.”

“Ah, yes.” they answer, scurrying to hand Fran the container of flour and rolling pin they pulled from the cabinet before going around the island to assist her. 

“Wow. Why don’t you talk that nicely to me?” Fran asks as if he wouldn’t bite her or something if she tried to treat Fuuta the way she usually treats him. “I’m sensing some favoritism here.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” MM snaps, though her words aren’t particularly sharp. Having finally finished the stupid bracelet, she finds herself in a pretty good mood, feeling accomplished even though it’s something so small.

Fuuta shows her how to finish off the bracelet, a button on one end and a loop on the other for easy fastening, before the four of them start up on making tonight’s dinner (personal pizzas made out of ingredients Fran’s already prepped) together. She helps Chrome make a circle that isn’t too oblong, and they pick each other's toppings.

They eat dinner in the living room in front of a movie, her and Chrome on the couch sharing a blanket and the kids in a fort on the floor. They go through the pizza, three bags of popcorn, and a carton of ice cream before the kids finally fall asleep in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the nest of pillows and sheets.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take them to Fran’s room? I can help you carry them.” MM asks as she’s putting on her shoes, voice low to keep from waking the little brats. She knows Chrome likes being able to hear them at night, just in case, and it’s much more difficult to hear something on the other side of the apartment compared to right across the hall.

Chrome waves the idea off, slipping on some sandals to follow her down to the front of the building. “It’s fine. It’s less worrying when the two of them are together,” she says, shutting the door and waiting for the automatic lock to  _ Click! _ before following MM towards the stairwell.

They both usually take the elevator when they’re on their own or with other people, but when it’s just the two of them they like to take the long way.

The silence between them as they start down the stairs is a little different from how it usually is. It’s not  _ uncomfortable _ , but it’s a little awkward. It starts eating at MM around the time they reach the seventh floor. She stops on the staircase, turning towards the other girl who’s been lagging behind.

“Do you have something to say?” she asks, immediately cussing herself out internally because the words come out a little sharper than they should.

Chrome doesn’t seem to notice or mind, a burst of red spreading across her cheeks as she focuses her gaze away from MM’s face. “Oh, I, uh...” She glances back and forth, gaze running right over MM with each sweep. “Your hair’s getting long.”

Huh?

“Yeah, I’ve been too busy with work-”  _ And spending time with you. _ “-to really go get it cut... Does it look bad or something?”

She reaches up to fiddle with her hair, inspecting it for any split ends. MM is confident she looks good in every and all styles, but the possibility of Chrome thinking she looks weird... Well, it makes her second guess that just a  _ teeny _ bit.

“ _ No! _ ” Chrome says a little too loud, the word echoing a bit in the empty stairwell. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the last project MM watched her finish that day: two straps of fabric, one lavender and one deep purple, braided in a celtic knot and sewn together to make a headband. “I just noticed your hair was getting in your way a lot today... I was wondering if we could do an exchange? Like the kids?”

MM blinks, reaching into her own pocket and pulling out the bracelet she almost forgot making. “You  _ want _ this?”

Chrome nods, the speed of the action giving away how eager she was.

MM stares down at the band in her hand for a moment before holding out her other hand. Chrome sticks her arm straight out, watching as MM fastens it. It’s a little loose, practically dangling off Chrome’s boney arm, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll slip off past her hand.

She takes a step forward then, closing the gap between them, and lowers her head slightly. Though Chrome’s hands are a bit shaky, she pulls the band over her head without hurting her ears. Their gazes lock again when she looks up, letting Chrome adjust the band, palms brushing against her cheeks and ears as she pushes it back in place.

She returns to the step she was on once Chrome’s done, turning her head from side to side to watch her hair  _ not _ fall in her face this time. “How does it look?”

“Really good.” A small smile, warm and a little wobbly, finds its way onto Chrome’s face.

MM snorts, though she knows she’s also grinning like an idiot, turning to go down the stairs but not walking off before offering her arm to the other girl. “C’mon. Walk me to the front already, it’s getting late.”

Chrome loops their arms together, her bracelet bouncing from where it dangles as the two continue down the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys liked this!! it's an entry for [KHR obscure ship week](https://khrobscureshipweek.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. i'm trying to write for at least a couple of the days and have stuff planned but idk if i'm gonna be able to do it aosdfasdbfk wish me luck tho!!


End file.
